All the Strings Inside Him Broke
by whatatreacherousthing
Summary: He'd been clean of a panic attack for so long, but when the weight of the world crashes down, he bails a pack meeting and falls victim to one. His mechanism to get out of them? A razor blade, and his skin. It just so happens, a certain werewolf comes to check on him. Trigger warning: self-harm.


_**A/N: This is my first Teen Wolf fic, so I'm extremely nervous publishing this. This is potentially triggering for self-harm and anxiety. You've been warned. I hope you like it!**_

-x-

Around them was the typical pack setting: all were crowded in the abandoned warehouse, Derek situated on the loveseat next to Isaac, who was reading a book, as he always tended to be. Boyd and Erica sat on the floor, Boyd trying, and failing, to beat Erica in whatever video game they happened to be playing. Scott was sitting in a beanbag with his feet thrown over the side of the couch onto Isaac's lap, much to Issac's (and his book's) dismay. Jackson and Lydia were snuggling on the seats in the railcar, by request of the rest of the pack, tired of their constant need to suck on each other's mouths. Peter, as usual, was upstairs doing whatever the hell Peter does. But one was missing: one Stiles Stilinski.

Erica was just about to beat Boyd in the round when Derek stood up, looking alert.

"Derek, what's wrong?" Scott's eyebrows furred together, inquiring.

"Something... Stiles. He's hurt. _That's _why he's not here," Derek turned his head back and forth, as though looking for an answer.

"He said he wasn't feeling goo-"

"Well!" Lydia yelled from the railcar.

"-said he wasn't feeling _well._" Scott finished, rolling his eyes.

"No. It's more than that."

"How do _you _know? I think I know him better than you do. He's my best friend."

"I just **know, **okay! Stay. Here. Trust me on this." Scott shut his currently opened mouth, knowing that the argument was over, as Derek ran out of the warehouse.

-x-

Stiles put the phone down, glad he had got out of the pack meeting tonight. He wouldn't face them. He _couldn't. _Not after everything that's happened.

When you think about it, he's had a pretty shitty week.

First off with the hallucination that his dad was telling him what a disgrace he was, that he killed his mother, and "now you're killing me". Then with being literally _paralyzed _during the whole Matt's a psycho gun waver who also happens to control a were-lizard who _also _happens to be his ex-crush's boyfriend.

Then with being kidnapped and beat up by Gerard. Now _that _was fun! The worst part was seeing his dad's face, so hurt that someone did that to his own son. Possibly even worse than that was having to lie to his dad. God, he's sick of that.

It finally sunk in that he'd never get with Lydia, not really. He can give himself that much.

What did he do to end up like this? Nothing that came across his mind. Except for nothing ever going his way, and his best friend ditching him for his, now ex-girlfriend, and getting his dad fired, and who he thought was the love of his life telling her boyfriend that she loved him whilst said boyfriend was naked right in front of him, and how everyone always assumes he's happy.

Well, he's not.

The sarcasm and wit and never shutting up? A facade. A complete and utter act. Because if he let it show that he was sad, others would worry for him. Stiles can't have that. People can't worry about him, he worries about others. He's never been good at accepting help, only giving it. Another part of the happiness faking.

Honestly? He's just tired of faking it. Suddenly, it's like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. It's always been there, but now it's just known and felt and crushing him.

He thought the panic attacks were behind him, he honestly did. But nope, he had to drag Scott out to look for half of a dead body, where Scott was bit by Peter. Which started this whole mess.

A panic attack is where you feel like you can't breathe and that your heart is going to burst out of your chest because it's beating so fast. It's kind of like you've inhaled too much air to the point of constriction in your chest, and you can't exhale.

Which is what was happening right now, the world crashing down around him. But, he's always had a secret to get out of panic attacks; pain.

Stiles ran across his room, underneath a pile of books, where his dad would never look, and pulled out a razor blade. A swift cut on his left wrist, he felt himself slowly returning to reality. Five more cuts paralell to the first, and he's aware of his surroundings again. He almost feels normal. But he doesn't deserve normal. He deserves punishment. He cuts more, and more, and more, until his entire forearm is covered in bleeding lines. Still not enough. Peeling off his t-shirt and pajama pants, left in his boxers, he takes the blade to his thighs and to his abdomen.

Finally assuring himself that he'll be in enough pain for the next few days, he pulls back on the pants and t-shirt, making sure to pull a sweatshirt on too, in case his dad came in.

Well, it wasn't his dad who came in.

-x-

Derek reached Stiles' house about ten minutes after Stiles had finished cutting, and whipped open the window to his bedroom, jumping in.

"Stiles! What's wrong?" he walked closer to where Stiles was seated in his desk chair.

"Nothing. Now please leave."

"Don't lie to me. I know something is wrong." Stiles turned in his chair to face Derek.

"How, exactly? Your super werewolf hearing can tell you whenever someome is having an issue or something? Get that shit fixed. I'm fine. Just tired. Now leave." he turned back around

"Stiles..."

"What."

"I smell blood."

"You're going crazy." Derek advanced towards Stiles, grabbing his arm. Stiles was fast to pull away, but Derek was quicker to grasp it again, rolling the sleve up.

"...Stiles. I..."

"What? Wondering why one of your betas is friends with a crazy emo kid? Well, I don't know either! That makes the two of us. Now please get the hell _out_!" Stiles was standing at this point, directing towards the window.

"I'm not leaving. You'll just hurt yourself again."

"Like you care? Don't you get it, Derek? No one cares! That's how it's always been for me. I always help other people, but they never help me! Sometimes that's all I want, Derek! I just want to feel loved, like I _matter_! I'm nothing. I've always been nothing, and I'll always be nothing. I'm tired of keeping everything inside me, because I'm going to burst! I'm just angry. All. The. Time. But can I let it out? Of _course _not! God forbid Stiles Stilinski have any other feelings besides sarcasm! I'm tired of faking to be happy, because I'm not! I've never been happy! I got my dad _fired, _and while yeah, he got his job back, he shouldn't have lost it in the first place! And none of this ever would have happened if I hadn't dragged Scott out in the woods to go look for your sister, where Peter bit him! _Everything _is my fault! Because I'm weak and useless and nothing. I just hate how everything is, that I created all of this. I hate it all, but mostly myself, and I want to know what it's like to not walk around with a dark pit of self-loathing in your stomach. Is that too much to ask?"

Derek looked overwhelmed, because that was _not _what he was expecting when he came here. He's never been good at words. So he did what his instincts told him to do.

He took several steps forward and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, pulling him into a tight hug. Stiles obliged immediately, wrapping his arms in return, and Derek could scent his salty tears.

"Stiles...I've never been good at words. But you don't screw everything up. You're only human. And I don't mean that in a degrating way, because even the wolves, underneath, we're all humans too, all with the same emotions and stupid decisions, it's just how we are. You don't go unappreciated. We all care about you deeply and want you to be safe and _honestly _happy. Trust me, I know what it's like to feel like you screw everything up, that you're the cause of it all. I get it. I get _you. _Just know that, okay? You're not alone in this. You've got the pack. And me. As much as I've shown the opposite, I actually like you. And I want you to be safe."

Stiles pulled back from the embrace, but only slightly to look into Derek's eyes.

"Who would've thought, that the sourwolf can actually be a squishywolf?" Stiles cracked a watery smile.

"Shut up." Derek said whilst smiling more than Stiles was.

"You know, you never answered my question. How did you tell I wasn't okay?"

Derek inhaled and exhaled deeply, while tightening his grip on Stiles' waist.

"You do a lot of research. What do you know about wolves having mates?" Stiles looked up, as though wracking his brain for the information.

"Not much, just that they mate for life, and it has a psychic-like connection between the two mates so they can tell where the other is and what they're feeling and - oh. Oh. OH! No. You're kidding! We're mates!" Stiles' smile was so wide Derek was concerned it might crack his face in half.

"I've known for a little while now. Since I've acknowledged it, I know what you're feeling, like a connection in the back of my mind, even when we're not nearby. The connection works both ways, whether the other mate is a wolf or human. And since you've acknowledged it..."

"I'm psychic. Dude. I'm freaking psychic. That's pretty awesome." Stiles smiled even more, somehow.

"That's really what you took out of this? Really?" Derek smiled even larger, and touched his and Stiles' foreheads together.

"Well I also took out of it that we're, like, dating now, no?" Stiles quirked an eyebrow.

"If that's what you want to call it, that's what we'll call it. Are you sure you want this? Me?" the older male looked purely nervous: rejection was something he was all to used to in his life, but he'd never get over the hurt and crushed feeling of the aftermath.

"I know it with my entire being. Which happens to be small and skinny. But you get the sentiment." Stiles' eyes flickered down to Derek's lips, and Derek's smile grew even larger; it would have made Jim Carrey jealous.

"Well I happen to accept that fully and enthusiastically." Derek collided his lips with Stiles' tongues exploring mouths, hands exploring each other, but there's no need to rush, as they quite literally have the rest of their lives together.

"You know this means no dating, no anyone else, right?" Derek bit his lip, trying to shut himself up from ruining this.

"Obviously, dumbass. I don't need anyone else, nor do I want anyone else. You're it for me." Stiles kissed him quickly but passionately.

Derek grabbed Stiles' arm that still contained the cuts from earlier, and gave a sad smile.

"I'll help you stop this. I promise you, I will make sure you come over this happy. I understand. We'll get through this, alright?" Derek stared straight into Stiles' eyes, full of honesty and love.

"I'm still not over the fact that you can be all lovey-dovey. Oh God, if the pack ever found out..."

"Stiles."

"Right. Getting through this. Okay. We'll do this together. I promise, I'll try, for you, okay?"

"It's very okay. And get used to me being, as you said, a squishywolf. We've got the rest of our lives, right?"

"The rest of our lives. I promise you that."

"Good God we're pathetic and sappy."

"Never would I have thought Derek Hale be sappy."

"Shut up." Stiles, somehow, managed to step even closer to the taller man.

"Make me."

And boy, did he.

-x-

_**Okay, I hope you liked it! The title is a line from Paper Towns my John Green. Reviews are always appreciated c:**_


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